A Fragment Of A Second Of Sense
by JackpotGirl
Summary: It took just a second, just the fragment of a second, a second where the motive of the move her body demanded her to make made perfect sense. Castle/Beckett Full Summery Inside, rated for language, Please R
1. One

**Summary: **After a dragging case Castle and Beckett are too tired to fight and for the fragment of a second, all the things Kate Beckett feels make sense.

**The Fragments Of Seconds Of Sense**

_~Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly.~_

It had been a rough day, a tough case, a bone-chilling, strength-sucking, hard-ass-ugly case.

A dead child, a pretty, little goldie-locked girl, not older than six years and three months. She'd been still a baby. An innocent little girl with a lifetime of happiness ahead of her. Raped and strangled by her stepfather.

Once again Kate Beckett asked herself in what world she was living in. Of course being who she was, a homicide detective with the New York Police Department, she'd seen horror beyond what most people could take but it was always cases like this, when pure innocence was slaughtered that she feared for the world.

What society where you living in when people were actually capable of murdering a six-year-old child, a child that had trusted you, that loved you like a father? What kind of monsters could walk their streets that were capable of hurting something so fragile, so defenseless? She sat at her desk, looking over a pile of paper work that she just didn't have the slightest urge to go through and saw nothing but blankness. She felt that she shouldn't be biting her lips so hard as she could taste the metallic fluid that was her own blood on her tongue but she also knew that, if she unlocked her teeth from her auburn lips, she would scream.

Sometimes this job just dragged her down, consumed her and left her dry with bitterness and pain, pain for people she hadn't known but failed to protect. Just like her mother. She couldn't protect her. Every time she saw someone die who hadn't deserved it, her unconscious brought the images of her mother back, the last time she'd seen her, the last smile they shared. So much she'd lost that night and Kate had chosen the one job that made her relive if over and over again.

Castle would call that self-destructive. And he would call the fact that she, none the less couldn't be happy doing any other job, ironic. Using the word in the right way.

Castle. He was a pain. Okay, if she was honest, most of the time he made her job much more easy and lighter to take but with cases like this, cases involving little girls, all humor faded from his character, leaving a cynical mask of Richard Castle behind that wore that strict face he usually just pulled off for an act, like a shield displaying a nonchalance that everyone, who knew him somewhat, could easily make out as phony. Truth was that cases like this pulled at him, too. Probably even more than they got to Kate because of Alexis.

His own daughter was nearly sixteen and each time they had a case on the table involving a girl, he made her his Alexis, for a bit he felt like his own daughter had died. His empathy didn't just made him capable of writing such great novels, it also made him feel all the pain of loosing a child, even if it was the child of another person and his blooming imagination could make up all the details, all the images, all the scenes if such a thing happened to him. Of course he never told her that. But she knew. If there was anything she had learned about him, it was that, although he tried to hide it, he was sensitive and afraid and being these things, he held on to Alexis like dear life. She was everything to him and just the thought of loosing her made him sick.

"Son of a bitch", his voice was low, brittle, not the usual cocky note floating along in it as he stood at her desk, looking down at her sympathetically, rubbing his thumbs against the solid wood.

"Yes", she agreed, knowing that he was talking about Mike Finnegan, the man who'd killed his step-daughter and was being processed to jail to wait for his trial, "If I could for one minute believe in hell, I'd want it to be for guys like him"

He simply nodded, his lips pursed as always when he was being serious. It was a rare silence filling the blanks between them, wrapping itself around them and for a moment, just looking each other it was clear that they understood. They had a truce. There would be no picking on each other after a day like this, no stupid comments or snappy answers.

"Care to share an elevator down?", Castle finally asked with the smallest hint of a smile crossing his features and with the same half-smile he got in return from her, he helped her into her coat that he'd swiftly picked up from the backrest of her chair.

She let him help. Although she sometimes despised him she had to admit that she liked these little gentlemen things he did. Just like that, for no profit, no gain, just because he felt that's how a woman was to be treated, the same went for opening up doors, waiting for the lady to enter, pulling out the chair at dinner. That was one side of Richard Castle she didn't want to see jump out the window and never come back.

Their steps echoed through the hollow corridor and as the elevator doors popped open Castle let her go first and pushed the button down.

"It feels like every time there is a case like this a piece of me dies", it was sudden and quiet when he spoke and the sort of insight into his mind that she had naturally but that he rarely gave verbally. It meant that there was a lot going on in his head, too much to keep to himself. And although she didn't like the feeling much because she couldn't and didn't want to understand where it came from, she felt a bit of an accomplishment. Him open up, revealing his true thoughts intentionally was something so rare it had begun to feel precious. And then again, the thought that something Castle said was precious to her was causing more reluctance than it should have, or better; spite.

But, yes, he was intruding, sometimes a riddle, there was nothing wrong about admitting to that, there was absolutely nothing humiliating about being fascinated by him. It was just stupid of her to feel like it was. And somewhere buried way down in her chest she was afraid of the origin of these feelings; their true roots and how it felt a little like in Elementary School were you just couldn't show that you indeed liked Kyle, the jock, a lot and instead pretended to hate him.

"I can't imagine how her mother feels", she finally said after giving his revelation a little room and eying him for a few moments, "I hope I never get to find out"

"Me too", he said and looked back at her and the sincerity shaping his features in a rarely seen way caused a chain-reaction that Kate Beckett dreaded more than anything.

It took just a second, just the fragment of a second, a second where the motive of the move her body demanded her to make made perfect sense. A second when she felt this overwhelming need to open her arms and fling them around his body, put her face on his shoulder and just hold him closely, make him hold her. That very second it was the only thought she had, grasp him, show him, hold him. That very second she found nothing odd about the urge. That very second it was like she was a volcano, about to erupt.

But the next second her mind got hold of itself again and the fear of the explosion, of the things that the volcano would bring to bright daylight, things so well hidden inside of her, emotions she wouldn't dare to name. It was a second of an attempted move that she would never make. Because just the perfect innocence of the act would mean too much to both of them. The line it would cross, just this subtle little gesture, it would be too much.

Kate felt like a house of cards, it took all her self-control to keep her together, to keep her face straight, to not _ever_ let Castle see that he could do this to her.

She couldn't let go of that and also, what was an epiphany every single time he looked at her like that, that she, only in the aftermath denied to have ever felt, was the knowledge that she was walking on an edge with no safety net below. There was just the fall. The complete loss of control. If she fell, she fell into an ocean of these feelings she didn't want to have, an ocean that would swallow her a whole and leave her exposed to all the hurt and pain such emotions could inflict on a person. That wouldn't happen to her. Not with him. Not Castle.

He didn't have a clue, he just looked back at her, a little confused, a tad bit puzzled, like he always did when they looked at each other like that. He might ask himself what she was thinking but she#d sworn the first time it had happened that he would never know.

Kate Beckett was in control of herself. And she knew that she wasn't going to let her body, her bloody hormones, chain her to this man. It was not going to happen. He would take too much, he would take all that she had, not because he was greedy but because he could, because she would let him.

If she lost control. But she wouldn't. She would never.

"Kate, are you alright", he asked concerned, thinking he'd figured her out, thinking she was still thinking about that little girl, oblivious to the truth, that he was currently all that occupied her head.

"Yeah, I just need a bath and sleep", she said, carefully putting the casual smile on her face, planting it there to stay and focusing her eyes back on the elevator door's, "I'm fine"

**Note:** So this is just what my imagination spills out when I think of Castle/Beckett...it tickles me to make this a story but as I have one priority-one unfinished it could take a bit, but maybe I'll update this whenever I feel myself block with the other one...I'll just hear you guys out, see what you think about it.

I would also like to get into Castles head and I would certainly like some flames spark between these to but only if anyone cares to even read.

So...drop me a line, tell me what you think.

Should I leave it at that or work my way around?


	2. Two

**Author's Note: **So here it is...my take on Castles head...it's the only way I can see things going up there. What do you think? I know it's short but I hope you like it none the less.

**A Fragment Of A Second Of Sense**

**Chapter Two**

Richard Castle was confused by the way Kate Beckett was looking at him. She did that sometimes, look at him like she was going to say or do something for a mere second and then her face went blank, she swallowed, bit her lip and looked away from him. Now, she stared at the elevator doors instead. It was moments like this that made him so crazy about her. He'd never met a woman as mysterious as her and he'd met many women in his life. But none of them had been able to capture both his attention and his imagination the way she did.

A look like this, a snappy answer, a smart objection and he could almost feel the words flowing through his veins, the words to describe Nikki Heat. What bugged him was that, no matter how well he'd come to know Nikki he still had no idea about Kate. Sure, he knew about why she'd chosen to be a cop, he new about the trauma of loosing her mother, he knew that she was, beneath her shield of strength and graveness, a very sensitive and deeply hurt woman, he knew her favorite song, what she liked for breakfast but the real core of her, all the layers of the Beckett-onion, how she liked to call it, he just couldn't pull down.

And he wanted it so much, there was nothing he wanted more than to get into her head and hear her thoughts, now all her secrets, all the dark sides and the light sides that she hid even better than the dark ones. It felt like, when she looked at him like this, a bit of that unknown Kate glimpsed through to him but she never came through. She was holding so much back from him. He knew that he was in no position to demand more, demand from her to reveal all, he couldn't ask anyone that...maybe Alexis. But even she wouldn't.

As always he still stared at Beckett and in his head he counted the seconds until she would say something random to distract him from the awkwardness between them. But she remained silent, her teeth so tightly pressed to her lips you would think she should be bleeding. And now he couldn't take the awkwardness anymore. Not for his sake but because he hated to see her so puzzled. As much as he liked to get her speechless as much it irritated him when she stayed wordless for long; it was too unlike her.

"Kate, are you alright", it blurted out of him before he could stop himself. Why wouldn't she be? Of course it was weird how she stared at him but why would that have to have any significance. Why would he ask her if she was alright. She _was_ alright. Or maybe she was thinking of that little girl. He, himself bit his lip, thinking about that last case. But he wouldn't think about that now, if he did, he would freak out again and imagine a scenario were he lost his Alexis.

"Yeah, I just need a bath and sleep", Beckett replied finally, carefully putting the casual smile back on her face, planting it there to stay and focusing her eyes back on the elevator door's, "I'm fine"

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep much tonight", he said truthfully and he had an idea.

Really, it was an idea he had often, very often, if he was honest he had it every time when Beckett wished him a good night but he rarely had the proper cause to verbalize it or a good enough bridge to make it seem spontaneous. But now he did.

"It's been a tough one, I could use some distraction now, some light entertainment", he started, cautiously observing her features to see if she was already skeptical, "I have a bottle of red open and Alexis called to say there's Quiche left. Would you..care to join me, just to end this day on a lighter note?"

The slightest movement flashed her features for a moment, the same that always came across her face when he asked her do go somewhere or do something private with him; a mix of triumph and reluctance. It only lasted so long and at first he hadn't even noticed but he'd asked her out so many times now, he eventually saw the pattern. It was an unconscious movement, that much he could tell, he wasn't sure if she even knew that she was doing it. Her upper lip pressed down on the bottom and ever so small, the corners of her mouth twitched upward and then she rolled her eyes and then it was already over as she eyed him intensely and he knew she was considering his offer.

And the fact that she took her time made his insides warm up because it meant that he might would get lucky this time.

"Uhhhhh", she half-sighed and Rick felt a smile he couldn't fight creeping onto his lips, she was going to say yes, "uh, why not...Let me just get changed and then I'll come over"

She smiled at him mischievously and went through the opening elevator doors, heading for her car in the parking lot. She was implying that she wasn't going to come, that she was only kidding. He didn't like that.

"Hey, that's not fair", Rick protested, half-running behind her to keep pace, "you already said yes"

She turned around, half way at her car and a real smile showed on her face, one of those smiles that Castle would kill for to be just for him for once.

"I'll be there", she said smugly, "don't start crying"

With that she took the last two steps to her car, got in and with no further word drove off. One day she was going to kill him with all that teasing. He stood there for a while just staring at the point where her car had gotten out of sight. Many people accused him of only wanting to get into her pants, he was aware of that, and a nagging voice inside him told him that she thought that, too and would never let anything happen, but it wasn't true.

Of course he wanted to get into her pants, she was the sexiest thing in the world but that was not half of her appeal to him. He knew how he felt about her and it was way past the point where it was just sexual attraction. It was serious. It was that serious, if it had been any other woman, he'd already been gone for good, fled from the consequences of such deep fondness, such interest, such affection that was one tiny step away from that scary kind of love, the irrevocable kind of love, the kind that never let you go. But it was different with Beckett, she didn't let him go.

It was ironic that she, seemingly wanting him gone so so bad made him hold on tighter to his goal than ever before. He wanted this woman, he'd wanted her since day one and he was not letting go that easy. He was a shark and he had his teeth so deep inside her, even if he'd wanted, he couldn't have backed off.

And he would get her eventually. At least that's what he wished for; why he always replied to people asking if they were a couple with "Not yet". Still the fear of that being an empty promise to himself was a constant uncomfortable worry inside his chest.

**So, do you want to know what happens at Castles place?**


	3. Three

**A Fragment Of A Second Of Sense**

**Chapter Three**

Richard Castle sipped quickly on his glass of red wine that he poured himself swiftly after opening the bottle. He didn't have one open, he'd just told Kate that, so his invitation would seem more casual. Now he of course had to at least drink one glass before she would arrive so he didn't seem phony. He'd just finished it with one large slurp when his doorbell announced the arrival of his favorite homicide detective in the world. He smiled at the thought that he would have such a thing as a favorite homicide detective.

Happier than he should've been, he half-danced to the salsa music playing towards the door and opened with a wide swing, revealing an amused looking Kate Beckett.

"Nice music", she stated stepping inside and carefully unbuttoning her coat, hanging it on the rack.

"D'you wanna dance?", Castle asked a little too much hope swinging along in his silky voice for the fact that he already knew she was going to shake her head and say 'no', though she made it sound more like '_hell_ no'.

"So where's that wine?", she asked him instead of twirling around the room with him to the summery rhythm that flooded Castles modern furnished living room, "I could use some of that now"

Castle nodded with a wide grin and went back to the kitchen to pick up his now empty and her still empty glass, bringing both back with the wine, asking Kate to sit down on the couch.

As he took seat beside her, he already noticed her blank stare and vacated expression, she was thinking again. He carefully poured wine into the glasses, putting his on the table and holding the other one out for Kate to take but she didn't, so he put it on the table before her.

"Cheers", he said, but she still showed no sign of awareness and after a few heartbeats, he clunked his against her glass. The delicate 'Bing' seemed to waken her off her trance where Castle's voice couldn't and still wordlessly she took the glass, raised it as if to say a toast, a silent 'cheers' to Castle and gulped the whole thing down at once.

"Easy there", Richard half-laughed...he was was doing a lot of half-things when she was around, half-dancing, half-smiling, half-telling the truth, half-heartedly attempting not to like her so much.

"Oh believe me, Castle, I can take it", she huffed, rolling her eyes at him. He wondered if one day her eyes would just stay in the wholes because she rolled them at him too forcefully.

"Sometimes I hate my job", she said coldly, her face displaying the same kind of anger mixed with grief she'd worn the whole day, "I still can't believe how this motherfucker reacted when we showed him the watertight evidence...how he'd just shrugged and said, he couldn't help himself"

Castle said nothing, mainly because of his clenched teeth, remembering this smug son of a bitch, sitting there, complacent and disgusting, feeling no need to apologize or even regret, telling them he _just couldn't help_ to rape and strangle his six-year-old step-daughter. Now as then he just felt the raging desire to smack his head in. And yet this was the first time he actually witnessed such a case, with such a young girl, normally the cases they got involving rape and murder, revolved around women or older girls. Sure the ones around Alexis' age were the toughest ones to deal with but this one...the girl had been so young. He understood how Kate was still upset.

"I always wanted children", she said out of the blue and Castle hesitated a moment, not sure what to make of it, "but seeing these things happen over and over and over again...ugh...I don't know"

"I see", he did, "I am always on the verge of breaking when Alexis is just half an hour late, even if she called to inform me about it,you never stop worrying, especially in a city like this"

"Yeah...and it doesn't matter anyway", Kate replied with a hint of bitterness in her voice, "It's not like I have a chance of even having a child coming around anywhere in the near future...and the clock is ticking"

Castle held his breath, was she really just confiding in him? It surely seemed so. Did she really just tell him of her ticking biological clock? And first and foremost, how long would he be able to bite his sharp tongue before he would say something really really really inappropriate.

"I wouldn't have a child anyway", she said thankfully and Castle released the air he held inside his lungs, glad that the moment of saying something disastrous for the course of the night had passed. "I wouldn't have. A child. Anyway."

She'd repeated it, she'd made each word a sentence. She wasn't telling him, he realized, he wasn't trying to convince _him_ of anything, she was telling herself. Funny. Funny that Kate Beckett of all people wanted a baby. She'd never struck him as the motherly-type. Course she was good with kids but...Kate and a massive pregnant-belly... as much as the image appealed to him, as much as it made him smile absent-mindlessly...the much he'd always supposed it would repulse her. And again it turned out, he knew so much less about her than he wanted to. She'd gone off into her own world, after gulping down the second glass of wine. He wasn't done with his yet when she drank the third.

"Before my mother died I wanted to be a cook, I wanted to make people happy and full and satisfied and now the most I can hope for is to give them closure. Not happiness. Not even solace", her voice was only ever so slightly lulled when she spoke again, it seemed like Kate Beckett had decided to not give a damn tonight, sharing yet another glimpse into her soul that Castle sucked in like a parching man sucked in water, he could say he wanted the Nikki Heat-background but if he was honest, he just cared about the Kate Beckett-background.

And he couldn't help but notice that she was unusually sad. More sad than normally after a case like that, which of course was a nasty one, but the Kate he knew was strong, stronger than this. But then again, maybe it was just the winelancholy that kicked in. Like so many times before, he tried to read her face. Her eyes still looked through the walls, somewhere distant that he supposed to be more blankness than anything, her mouth was twitched and she went from nibbling on her upper lip to nibbling on her bottom lip, wrinkling her forehead ever now and then.

"Kate", he tried to gain her attention, he needed a closer look at her eyes and she granted him the favor, turning to face him, showing those green perfect eyes of hers, they looked sad, sunk in some thought or the other she had, or maybe hadn't shared yet, "what's wrong? This is not about that case, is it?"

"It's about everything", she said finally, after eying him, seeing if he was worthy of the truth, "it feels like I'm not doing anything right. I joined the force to help people but if feels like I'm only cleaning up after the bad guys. And now half of my life is over and what do I have to show for...a big whole pile of nothing. As for my mother, I had my revenge but I'll never figure out the reason they had her killed and my private life...well, let's not even talk about that"

She was genuinely sad, smacked, depressed. It must have been one hell of a wine to make her tongue so loose or maybe...maybe she'd just been eating this stuff for so long it just had to come out eventually. He was scared to comment, he was afraid she would take his words and turn them into something offending, man, he was cared he'd make his words offensive. He didn't want to. He didn't mean to, but he wanted to say something so bad, he couldn't hold back. But he hesitated, forcing himself to take advantage of this gift of his, of his talent to form words, sentences and elevate them, make them something Kate Beckett in that vulnerable wino-state couldn't find in any way or interpretation hurtful or mocking.

"Kate, I am a hundred percent serious right now, okay, I'm not kidding and I don't want you to think I am, do you understand?", he started, weighing of the feel of the words leaving his mouth.

"Yes, you're damn serious", she said, a sad smile pulling on the corners of her auburn lips.

"Okay", now he didn't like her mockery tone, "so I'm gonna say it, don't shoot me"

"Go ahead", she nodded faintly, now a bit curious.

"Tis might sound a bit unconventional", he still wondered how he was going to make that suggestion.

"Oh come on, Castle, I've known you long enough to not be surprised at unconventional ideas you have", she said with purpose.

"Well, I might just say it then", he couldn't say it – she looked at him, was she getting annoyed? That wasn't good..., "I...I think"...go ahead, Rick, he told himself, "I think you need a hug"

And then she bursted. All the pain and desperation automatically left her expression, she looked completely jolly, laughing full-heartedly at his remark. He didn't like that, either.

He let her laugh. A minute, two minutes and then he had enough. He cleared his throat, she looked at him and pulled herself together, but when she answered, it still sounded like she had to hold back from blurting out.

"Why do you think I need a hug?", she almost laughed, "And why do you think I need one from you?" - Now that was just mean. So he could be, too.

"I think that you lead a hell of an empty life and I think that you're too proud to admit that you're lonely, too, that you need a shoulder, too sometimes. I think you are so obsessed with making everyone think you're the tough girl, you've given every person in the world the impression you didn't need any help ever. I think that even though Lanie is your best friend, even she has never felt inclined to come by in the middle of the night because she knew you'd be needing a friend, I believe that, though she loves you, she thinks you can handle everything on your own.

Because you're so strong. I think that, all your life people turned to you for help and you had no one to turn to, I believe that when your father was binging, he came to you to come clean and you helped him through, listening to all his problem, supporting him every step of the way while you had nothing and no one who helped you with a drug-abusive father. I think that you've acted like that unbreakable, unaffected person that you have forgotten how to let go, how to release all this pain, all the fears, all the shit you keep taking and eating it up and I think that, when the night comes, you lie in your bed and there's nothing but this hollow place inside your chest and that nagging question; who is there for me? Who listens to me when I'm sad? Who takes me home when I'm lost? Who will hold my hair when I'm throwing up outside the Bar? Who cares about _me_?", his words hung in the air, thickened the atmosphere between them as her lips practically disappeared and her eyes went from icy to concrete, to stone until..

She took a deep breath, and another one while he held every muscle in his face tight to not fall apart, to not become a wincing puppy, begging her for forgiveness of such audacity. He didn't want to apologize, he'd meant it and he knew it was the truth, he wanted to sit that one out, even if that mean taking the piss from her. He wanted to know what she had to say to that. Then her face changed, first subtle, then visible, suddenly she seemed tired, exhausted and...sort of...resigned.

"Castle", her voice was soft, so soft, it let the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, she exed another glass of wine, "I'm a woman and I'm human. And although I might feel all these things you said I feel, what do you think would happen to me if I let it show? It's a tough world, it's unfair, it's dirty and no one looks out for no one. I learned that the hard way, again and again until I realized that I'm alone. As much as you are. You die alone, you stand alone"

He didn't think she'd ever been so blunt with him ever before. He also didn't think she'd ever been so wrong before.

"That's bullshit, Kate", he said firmly, "It's complete bull and you know it, you're not alone and if you ever went and tried to show that you're only human, as you said you'd notice that it isn't all that bad, that maybe showing a bit of weakness wouldn't kill you"

"Let it go", she said, equally as firm. Like hell he was.

"No, or are you scared, Beckett, give it a try...come on, come on over here, if you dare", he said challenging, opening his arms up widely.

"Nice try", she huffed out.

"So, you're really scared", he made big eyes and played shocked, "You're scared to touch me"

"I'm not scared to touch you, Castle, I just don't want to", she said, he waited for foam to drip from her angry lips and fangs to rip him in two while he still held out his arms.

"Try it, I dare you", this was his last shot, a last attempt to get her by betting, schoolyard-style.

"Fine", she almost spit at him, more spiteful than she'd ever been, "I hate you, Castle"

"Show me how much", he talked back, rocking his body towards her and then it happened.

She literally threw herself on top of his chest, one hand pressed to her side the other one wrapping around his upper body but not without elbowing him. Hard. And then she lay half on top of him and let him put his arm around her back, holding her tightly and with the other stroking up and down her arm.

First he felt her ragged, raged breath, her chest going up and down violently against his own ribcage until it all slowed down, her breathing deepened and he felt her face sink down on his shoulder.

Kate Beckett hated Richard Castle. With a passion. At least in the very second she threw herself on top of him out of sheer anger. She didn't want to hug him, she didn't want to be anywhere near him. But he needed to shut up and she didn't see any other way. That she could've just gotten up and left was an option she didn't consider for reasons she didn't even wanted to vaguely think about now. These reasons where more displaced and yet more acute than ever before. It was emotional overkill. And it had started when he told her all the things to her face she would never admit to herself.

That she did woke up at night, silent tears going down her reluctant cheek, asking herself ragingly why she was so alone, why no one could see that she wasn't so strong, that she was nothing more than another lost girl, a big and bitter girl that no one seemed to see worthy for protection. How did he know? Was she that obvious? Or had he just finally managed to get into her head? If anything, she wanted him out of there, he was invading, he needed to get out, he needed to shut up.

And then he wrapped his arms around her, so tightly, every muscle a strain, so strongly holding her she couldn't get away. And she'd wanted to scream,instead she panted.

And she'd wanted to hit him, instead she moved closer, resting her head on his strong shoulder.

And she'd wanted to tell him to leave her the fuck alone, instead she swallowed hard when he started to caress her arms, and when his fingers painted invisible patterns on her skin the worst thing happened.

It felt good.

It was actually annoyingly nice. She felt...she was disgusted by herself...she felt...it was beyond words...she actually felt...she couldn't think it...safe. She felt safe. And protected. And warm. And...which was the scariest thought of all...complete. She wanted to throw up. Her whole body acted beside herself, she didn't want this to feel so...right, damn, she wanted to be reluctant, repulsed, she wanted the urge to move away, to go and never come back but it wasn't there, her body wanted to stay and she felt the wine flow through her veins and her thoughts getting all dulled up, all fuzzy and foggy and she felt his strong arms holding her in place, his even breath making his wide chest go up and down and she felt his heartbeat through his shirt and she got so irritatedly calm, it was too much for her exhausted brain to process. The sounds around her muffled, the same went for the blurring shapes she saw.

Oh, lord, no. No, no, no. She was falling asleep.

"I hate you, Richard Castle", she said again, but her voice wasn't firm and angry as she'd intended, it was quiet and babbling, brittle and low, "If you tell anyone about this, I will...I'll" - a yawn escaped her throat before she could help it, "I will kill you"

The fog was getting closer, taking the better part of her body and mind, she felt so warm, so secure, it was revolting. She needed to be closer to him, she needed him to hold her tighter. God, she needed to put a bullet through her twisted brain.

That was he last thing she thought before she fell asleep. Cuddled up at the side of Richard Castle.

**What do you think? **I hope this was at least half in character...I know it's a weird situation but somehow I could see it happening. How do guys you feel about it?


	4. Four

**A Fragment Of A Second Of Sense**

**Chapter Four**

The first rays of sunlight gently stroke Kate Beckett's face and she found herself immersed in the distinct smell of a man, and not any man; there was only one person in the world who smelled like this, like a mixture of high class cologne and somewhat earthy, musky and with that faint sweet note of cedar. It was everywhere, it lingered on the sheets that lay softly on her skin so stubbornly there was no escaping the scent.

All around her smelled like Richard Castle, every breath she took was full of it and it brought back the memories of the night before, also her throbbing headache reminded her of the one wine too many last night and what a fool she had made of herself.

She didn't even want to open her eyes, she wanted to sink into the pillow, be buried underneath it and never resurface. But it was inevitable. She had to get up and get home, the faster the better, so she finally forced her eyes to open and had to blink several times until they had accustomed to the bright sunlight piercing through the curtains. It took a second until she fully processed where she was.

She lay in Castles king-size bed, still wearing her clothes from the day before, loosely covered with that Rick-scented blanket, he was nowhere around and it didn't look like the other half of the bed had been slept in at all. Better for him, if he'd dared to lay down beside her, her first move wouldn't be weakly to the bathroom but after him to shoot him.

Her reflection hardly gave the striking pain hammering in her forehead away, she just looked a bit tired, a bit unkempt. She finger combed her hair absentmindedly and tried to cope with the awkwardness she had coming once she left this room. A short moment she hoped that he would be gone somewhere but then the smell of scrambled eggs and pancakes hit her nostrils.

He was actually making breakfast?

One could hardly say that curiosity got the better part of her but it helped getting herself to go downstairs. Taking one at a time, she suppressed the thoughts that crept unto her tired mind, what she'd said to him, how embarrassing it was to have fallen asleep in his arms, that the only thing she really wanted to do was take the fire-exit out of the bedroom-window and run away as far as she could. She needed to call Demming.

She didn't know what she would say to him, it wasn't like anything had changed, but she felt like she needed to talk to him, get at least some bit of herself back into her possession. When she talked to him, she was always exactly who she wanted to be, strong, tough, funny, never lost for words, self-assure, in control.

If she was to be truly honest, beside his kindness and great looks, that was the thing that drew her mostly to the robbery detective whom she'd been seeing for a couple of weeks; he never threw her off track, she was perfectly fine and herself with him around.

He made her feel confident and sexy because she knew every second what she was doing, saying and feeling.

It was the exact opposite she felt to when with Castle, he made her feel insecure, uncertain of what she wanted, needed, wished for, who she was, what she was to say, he made her a cringing, unsure child again, lost in a world where he made the rules, even if he was unaware of it. She'd realized it the night before, how he could make her snap like that, make her freak in a heartbeat because he'd figured her out more than she ever had figured herself out.

He drew her away from herself, from what she thought she ought to be and she didn't like that, it made her vulnerable and needy of his acknowledgement and protection. And she didn't want to be protected by him, she wanted to be protected from him, from the effects he had on her, from what just a hint of a change in his manners and actions could do to her.

She wasn't stable when with him, she was so lost in everything he said and implied, it made her feel like back when her mother died, desperate for directions, for someone to hold her and the urge of being held by him, the undeniable desire to snuggle up in his arms where everything felt so safe but wasn't, all that was too much for her. She couldn't handle it, it wasn't anything like her.

It wasn't so much that she couldn't handle Rick Castle, because she could. She only couldn't handle herself when she was with him.

Finally he came in sight, frying eggs and making pancakes almost simultaneously and her heart made an unpleasant jump of fear and anxiousness and a third feeling she didn't dare to name, when he caught her eye.

It seemed like an eternity until his lips went up into a kind, harmless smile that she couldn't give back to him, she felt like she'd turned to a sculpture.

"Good morning", he said briskly, as if nothing had ever happened, "I made breakfast and coffee, I didn't know what you would want"

"Er...", her voice was so brittle, she coughed once or twice, feeling her cheeks get crimson red, she felt so awkward it was beyond reason, "thank you, but I think I better get going"

She held on tighter to her jacket, that she had grasped from the couch and stumbled backwards to the door, watching the look on his face change from politeness to something like repentance.

"Kate", it was an appeal and he could have held her with both hands, tied her with a rope and nailed her to the wall, it wouldn't have made her stay like the tone of his voice, she couldn't move, "I'm sorry about last night, I was out of line and I want to apologize, it was none of my business nor my right to say these things to you"

Kate looked at him and knew that he meant it and she was too tired to be still mad at him, because, initially she was really mad at herself.

"It's fine", she said but it came out more coldly that she'd intended and he pursed his lips, a picture of regret, his face was causing her so many mixed feelings, suddenly she knew what she had to do, "But I think it would be best if you wouldn't come in on Monday"

She didn't want to not see him again, she knew that, but she was sure that the only way to safe herself was to cut this connection between her and him before it sent her over the edge, before it took the last bit of self-control she had.

She turned on her heels, not allowing herself to look at him, practically hearing how his features fell apart and the clicking of the door drowned his protest.

Now she only heard her heels resounding on the wooden hallway floor.

**Author's Note: **I know this is another rather short one but I kinda work short atm, so I hope you enjoy it anyway..please do share your thoughts on this chapter...what do you think will it take to get these two back together?


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